


Muse

by paint_pigment



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: High School AU, M/M, RusEng - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-21 17:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3700959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paint_pigment/pseuds/paint_pigment
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ivan is an online poet that is trying to woo the heart of the student council president, Arthur Kirkland. Between writing, family, school, and unrequited love. He's startled that  Arthur reads through his blog. Quite frequently too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Poem #235 and Arthur Kirkland

**Author's Note:**

> RusEng woot!! I've had this written down for quite a while but never got to post it since the internet is such wonk these days, but here you go! This might be pretty lenghty actually :Y

Ivan sighed as he pressed through the night. He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. He opened his notebook, scribbles and poor excuses for handwriting littered the pages. He looked at his poem count and typed it in, Poem#235. He pressed enter and waited for it to load into his blog.

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. It was too late into the night, or perhaps it’s considered too early in the morning? Nevertheless, he needed to write. He needed to get these goddamned feelings off his chest. Ivan is an online poet – and a well-known one through his online community- and this was the 12th poem he had dedicated to his muse.

He had never gone this far with the feeling of love. One or two would usually suffice, but twelve doesn’t seem to quell the wretched beast. 

Ivan writes about how he feels. And if this crush won’t go away, his audience is bound to get more and more love poems. They haven’t been complaining, it seems he’s been gaining some more with this flurry he’d been spewing into his blog. Probably love struck-people like himself.

His eyes gazed over his latest text.

It seems these rumours aren’t true,  
You aren’t heartless.  
In fact, dear, I think you have two.  
Because it seems my heart has went from me, to you.

He scoffed and narrowed his eyes. He felt pathetic, if only he could give these poems to him in real life. But he was too busy to be bothered. Too busy to have him in his life. But who was this beauty that Ivan had fallen for?

Well, he was the stone cold student council president of his high school. Arthur Kirkland.

Ivan likes to think he actually has a chance, after all, he is in two of his classes. English, and Biology. Though maybe it could have helped if he actually talked to him. Ivan leaned against the back of his chair and closed his laptop. He retired for the night, the thought of Arthur fresh in his mind. Maybe liking Arthur isn’t so bad. 

***  
Ivan woke up to the droning sound of his alarm clock. A light tap on the snooze button and then it stops. He threw the covers off his body and was quick to remake it. He continued on with his morning routine. He combed his hair neat and had his bag set (complete with notebook and laptop , of course.) “Good morning Kat, Nat.” He yawned, he didn’t feel like saying the extra syllables as he joined his sisters on the table for breakfast.

 

Natalya let out a soft grunt as she continued on with her food, Katyusha smiled and went back to reading the papers. There were three of them, sure, but it was always silent. They did not want to upset their father after all.

He ruled over them with an iron fist, strict with his rules and made sure his children followed them. He would make sure grades and proper behaviour is observed. Especially with Ivan, being the only son he has, he expects him to be something big. Like a lawyer, or an engineer, or a doctor. He wants him to get something ‘practical’ even if it meant abandoning his own dreams.

This is why Ivan created his blog, it gives him little escape from what will soon to be. In two more years he would have to stop all this nonsense dreaming and stick to the path his father had paved him. “Where is father?” He asked, the thought of the man’s expectations made him wonder. “At work, he will be back early tonight.” Ivan nodded and stood up, setting the plate into the sink for his sister to wash later. He walked to the door, uttered a good bye and made his way to school.

***  
Contrary to most people, Ivan loved Mondays. To be exact he loved first period English. He sat right behind Arthur. He sat front and centre, so it was really easy to get a spot near him. The bell rung a few moments after he sat down. Arthur already in his seat, browsing through his phone as he waited the teacher to arrive. 

Students shuffled their gadgets away when the teacher went in. Ivan took notes as the older woman droned about poetry. Ivan scribbled on his notebook, a few stray verses of poems he’d have to expand later. He listened carefully when the teacher said she had a special announcement. 

“Instead of a written test, the board has given me permission to give you all a practical test. You are to analyse a poem, then create and perform one of your own. “There was a collective groan, the class wanting no part of the test. “ It’s also your project.” She added with a smirk and placed her hands on her hips.” But since it is a big part of your grade, I have taken the liberty of pairing you all up.” She began to say the list of names, Ivan waiting for his one to be called.

“Braginski and Kirkland.”  
Ivan flinched, he didn’t expect that. His face turning a bit red as he let that thought sink in. He prepared himself as people were going to their partners. He watched as Arthur stood up and turned his desk face to Ivan. He couldn’t believe this was happening! He was actually paired up with Arthur. His whole week was made. It was in that moment the light seemed to shine just right, illuminating Arthur’s figure, he looked like an angel. Okay perhaps Ivan was just exaggerating that.  
“Hello.” Arthur said as he sat down, facing Ivan face to face. “H-Hi.” He murmured, eyes clumsy, he didn’t know where to look. So he had just settle to look him in the eye. That was polite, right? 

Arthur took out his notebook and phone and began to speak. “ I’m quite glad that I have been paired up with you, you are sensible and hopefully not a freeloader, yes?” Ivan was quick to nod. “Grades aren’t worth it if you don’t work hard.” He replied, those were one of the phrases his father had repeated to him over and over again. 

Arthur looked at him, a bit surprised. Ivan was about to think that what he said had put Arthur off but then, Arthur smiled. He didn’t think his smile would this angelic…this beautiful. He felt his heart race and quickly looked down on his notebook as Arthur said “We’re going to get along just fine.” 

”S-so, do you want any particular poet? It’ll be easy if it was something you’re already familiar with. “

Arthur nodded and opened up a bookmark on his web browser. “ Yes, he’s an online poet, one of my favourites.” Ivan shook the idea away, it couldn’t be him, there so many online poets in the web. “What’s his name?” Arthur shrugged. “He uses a screen name.”

Arthur’s face turned a bit red as he flipped through his notebook and swiped through his phone. “I-I can’t pronounce it thought, its in a different language.” Ivan gulped, and raised another question , “May I see?” 

“Oh! Yeah, of course.” Arthur handed his phone. Ivan looked at it. 

And his blog stared right back.


	2. II. Poetry and New Found Rivalry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kudos and support! That really help me typed this chapter up. This would've been up sooner but I have very wonky internet, sorry about that. Enjoy! ( I also changed the title, if you haven't noticed that is)

Ivan couldn’t believe it. Arthur Kirkland – the Arthur Kirkland he’s been crushing really hard on – is a fan of his work! For a moment he was so flattered and proud of himself. But then it was gone as fast as it came because he came to another sudden realization.   
  
Arthur reads his work.   
  
Which means he has probably read the _twelve_ love poems for him so far. So then Ivan plays it cool, trying not to show his embarrassment. “Hmm, does he only write about love? Are they any good?” How very sly of you Ivan Braginski. Arthur was quick to shake his head. ”No, he writes about a lot of things. I suppose he’s found a wonderful muse? Maybe that’s way there’s so many love poems.” He laughed softly and watched Ivan as he scrolled through the phone.  
  
He pretended to look amazed at the poems, but he knew all of them from the back of his hand. “I think they’re great though. There’s just so much emotion and it’s like he’s writing it for me, you know?” Oh Arthur. If only you knew. Arthur cleared his throat as his face gained some color. “Look at me, gushing about poetry, sorry about that.” He sighed softly. “No, its fine. Our project is to gush about poetry.” They share a smile and soon fell into silent, not really sure about what to talk about yet.  
  
“Soul Writer.” Ivan murmured as he handed Arthur’s phone back.  
  
“Pardon?”  
  
“ That’s the translation of the pen name. It was in my mother tongue.”  
  
“Oh, thank you…” Arthur said as he looked over at the text baring the foreign language. A new connection made between him and this mysterious online poet.  
  
“No problem, we should start to pick which poem to analyse.”  
  
“Right.”

 

They spent the rest of the period talking about their insights on poem# 165. A poem Ivan wrote when he was frustrated about his father holding back his want for poetry. It was lengthy and told of a man with a fire battling the cold winter, but loses his fire and falls to the clutches of cold.   
  
“It’s such a sad poem, isn’t it?” Arthur asked.  “Isn’t this just about a man dying in the cold?” Ivan said, seeing if Arthur could really delve in his poetry.  
  
“No, it’s not a literal sense, I think it’s him. He is the man in the winter, he had something he was just so passionate about. But something was holding him back and he gave up.” Arthur said as he scribbled notes on his notebook. He stated his opinion with such pride that it even made Ivan embarrassed about his analysis. “It’s about loss. But I just can’t tell what he lost. “  


“It must’ve been just as important as fire is in winter.” Ivan replied. Arthur looked up, a bit surprised when he spoke up. “That’s a great interpretation, Ivan.”   


The bell rung soon afterwards and the class rustled to fix their things. “Wait, Ivan.” Arthur said before getting up. “May we have lunch together? So we can discuss about our project.” Ivan eagerly nodded. “Yes! I-I mean… yeah, sure.” Arthur said his goodbye and made his way to the next class.  
  
As soon as Arthur was out of the room Ivan hid his face into his hands, a big grin on his face.

***  
  
Ivan gripped his hands nervously as he looked around the cafeteria. It was foolish of him to ask where Arthur usually sat. But Arthur made it obvious that he was near the back when called out his name.   
  
Ivan smiled at him and went to the table, he set the tray down and greeted him. “Hello, Arthur.” He nodded to him. “Hello, I hope you don’t mind but my usual lunch buddy would be accompanying us. He’s a bit… _loud_?” He said, a bit unsure of his own words.   
  
“Oh?  Who?”  
  
“Alfred Jones.”  
  
Ivan was baffled. The _Alfred Jones_? Shouldn’t that star quarterback be with all the other jocks instead of Arthur? Or maybe just, very far from Arthur. Ivan was good looking sure but he definitely can’t compare to Alfred. Oh God, he hoped Alfred wasn’t gay or gay for Arthur. And if so maybe Ivan could woo someone else-

“Ivan?” Arthur huffed and waved his hand infront of his face. “Earth to Ivan.”  
  
“Yes, Earth, this is Ivan speaking.” Ivan smirked and Arthur laughed.  
  
“Woah hey, what’s so funny, Artie?” A voice spoke as it got closer. A speak of the devil. “And who’s this? Is he bothering you?” Arthur rolled his eyes as Alfred spoke. “ Heavens, no! Ivan’s just good company.”  
  
“Well I’m _great_ company!” Alfred replied.” Sure you are.”  Ivan bit his lip as he watched them banter. He felt this uneasy feeling, as if he didn’t fit in between them, it was like he was an intruder. And Ivan hated that feeling.   
  
  
But the tension grew between them. Maybe both teens knew that the other fancied Arthur. Maybe they just really don’t like each other. Whatever it was, it became a small competition on who could make Arthur laugh the longest. It got Arthur clutching his stomach and leaning forward. “Stop--! Stop you two I can’t take it!”  
  
And perhaps the only thought they had in common was that Arthur looked so damn beautiful when he laughed.   
  
The bell rung shortly afterwards and Arthur quickly excused himself to go to class. “I’m sorry I ended up laughing instead of doing our project.” Were his words before he left. Ivan found himself with the same stupid grin on his face. His face turning a bit red. Alfred had the same grin on his face, thumping his fingers against the table.   
  
Moments pass until they both remembered they had company. Ivan stood up and murmured that he had to go. Alfred did the same and the tension soon piled up again.” Cherish it while you can. He’ll forget all about you when your dumb project is over.” He spat out and jogged his way to class.   
  
“Let’s just see, Jones.” Ivan whispered.


	3. Gloves and Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVENT UPDATED IN SO LONG :))))
> 
> BUT HELLO ITS SUMMER ENJOY AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE KUDOS <333

Contrary to popular belief (in this case, to Ivan’s belief.) Alfred and Ivan hadn’t clash at all after that encounter during lunch. He’d occasionally send a bad look to Alfred in the hallway and Ivan would get one back. But that was it really. It sort of scared Ivan that Alfred wasn’t doing anything else, It made him a bit paranoid. But he just took it as a chance to talk to Arthur more.   
  
And they did actually. Even outside of English class, Arthur would walk up to him and chat for a bit, they would talk in that short gap between classes and when he was lucky, Ivan would see Arthur after school and they’d walk home together. Their path split at an intersection, Arthur going left and Ivan right.   
One day, Ivan tried his best to rally up his courage as he stood by waiting for Arthur. “I’ll do it.” He said. “I’ll tell him how I feel and I’ll hold his hand on the way home.” He felt his face turn red just at the thought of it. The tip of his nose being the reddest part of his body. It was cold and he was embarrassed, a deadly combo indeed. He hid his face in his scarf and gripped his own hand.

He knew it was winter and he knew he should’ve brought gloves but how can he hold Arthur’s hand through the cloth? Arthur never wore gloves anyway. He’ll use the cold of winter as an excuse to hold his hand. Man, Ivan was an absolute genius.   
“Ready to go?”

Ivan turned around, seeing Arthur look at him, giving him a small smile on his face. His own returning the smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”

They walked in silence, they kind of always did. But it wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t weird. It was just because Arthur was never the talking type and Ivan had nothing to say. But that was what made the walk all the more enjoyable.

And it was what gave Ivan the chance; the chance to finally say what he felt to the gorgeous boy right beside him, all he need was to stop his hand from shaking and hold Arthur’s bare hand.

But he couldn’t stop his hand from shaking in nervousness, something that blew his cover as Arthur commented on it. “Cold isn’t it?” He chuckled and pulled his hands out from his pockets, “Which is why I finally got myself gloves.” He smiled as they stopped walking for a bit as Arthur raised his hands that were comfy in the red mittens  
Now isn’t that dandy, his hand doesn’t need holding. Ivan bit his lip and sighed.

Then red flashed near his eyes.

“Here, your hands look cold.” Arthur spoke, offering his hand to Ivan. He looked at the hand then back to Arthur. “A…Are you sure?” He whispered, his face turning red was Arthur really offering to hold hands? Did Arthur like him too?

“Of course, I wouldn’t be offering if I’m not sure, right?”

Then Ivan placed his hand on top of Arthur’s. And they stood there for a bit, just holding each other’s hand. Ivan’s face seemed to match the cloth of the glove as they stood there for what seemed like hours.  
Until of course Arthur slipped his hand out of the glove, leaving the cotton fabric limp in Ivan’s hand. “What..?” Ivan spoke softly looking at Arthur with a confused look. Arthur looked at him with the same confused look. “What? Do you not want to use my glove?”

So that was what Arthur meant.

“ No, no sorry. I’ll use it.” Ivan cleared his throat and put the glove on his hand, it wasn’t as snug as it was on Arthur, his hand being a bit bigger than Arthur’s. “You can give it back tomorrow, alright?” Arthur said as he bid farewell. Ivan stood as he watched Arthur cross the street, wanting to make sure he crosses safely.

He made his own way home as he held his own hand. Smiling at the feel of the glove on his skin. “This would do for now…”

***

At the steps of his home, Ivan was quick to take off the glove and hide it in his bag. He didn’t want anybody asking questions. Not when he was in such a good mood. “I’m home.” He spoke to an empty house. Looks like there was no one to ask the questions anyway.  
He took off his shoes and let his soft feet pat at the wooden floors. His bags set by the edge of the couch. He didn’t go up to his room yet, he had to prepare dinner. It was like the unspoken duty of anyone who came home first. Lately it had been Ivan’s duty to do so.   
  
But right now, he wasn’t hungry. He wanted to write and write and write. So he quickly scurried to the kitchen and cooked what he did every day. His sisters didn’t complain, his father wasn’t home to complain.   
He set the plate down on their dinner table as soon as he was done and rushed up the stairs to his room, only to run back down and snatch Arthur’s glove from his bag.

***

Ivan marvelled at the two new pieces he had posted on his blog. “All of this…because he let me borrow his glove.” Ivan groaned and slumped his back into his chair, his hand sneaking into Arthur’s glove and pretending he was holding it. Ivan was in love with Arthur, he just knew it.

Was this really love? Ivan furrowed his eyebrows as he looked up at the dark ceiling of his room. He had it so hard for Arthur, huh? Then it strikes him again. Inspiration. He leaned back to his laptop and started to write.

At the top of the document, **Love** was written in bold letters. He bit his bottom lip as he ignored everything else and his fingers typed as fast as he could. This was the first poem he ever gave a title to.

He was sure Arthur would make a big deal of the title tomorrow.


End file.
